Promise
by hiei1317
Summary: Friendships and partnerships don’t always last, but promises last forever. Promises can bring people together and break people apart. [this is a SasoOro fic one sided there and then a SasoDei fic mostly fluff also a rape fic]


a/n: Yep, I'm back, with more SasoDei goodness... um... this one has no real story as to why I wrote it at least, really it was just me wanting to write a SasoriOrochimaru fiction, because I had nothing better to do, and when it comes down to things, well, I can't write about Sasori and not Deidara and vice versa, so there's a nice twist to this one! um... I don't own the pictures in the preview, those are just searchable on and... I don't own Deidara, Sasori, Orochimaru, or anyone else that happens to pop up in here.

Enjoy 

Warning: this is a rape fic, please be aware of this... thank you.

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SASORI POV

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The only comfort in the room is the familiar sound of the joints of my puppets as I tighten them after replacing the poison cartridges. The walls of the small two-person room, and yes, it is a little cramped for two people, are stone, so every little sound vibrates at least three times before disappearing.

Scritch. Scratch. Scritch.

The only other sound is unfortunately both familiar and uncomfortable. The sound of writing reaches me from just across the room. I glance up at the snake like face of my partner and even from here I can see the sweat that beads and drips down his face. His concentration seems unbreakable as he works at yet another one of his scrolls. The incessant sound of the writing grates at my nerves.

"Calm down, Orochimaru, there's no reason to rush. We have the weekend off, remember?" my voice is neutral, as I always try to keep it that way, as I stare at his anxious face. There's no need for silly emotion, not in the life of a shinobi.

Orochimaru halts in his work, hands on either side of the scroll, panting slightly and seemingly scanning his current work. That's his problem: I see work as something that is necessary to get better, but Orochimaru makes scrolls, seals, curses, all of which are forbidden, and he makes it a part of his every day life. To him, work is a necessity, something that has to be done everyday. Even I know the joys of taking days off, and supposedly I'm the most "up tight" person in the Akatsuki, or so says Kisame.

He flashes me a smirk, "I know!"

I roll my eyes and fight back both a sigh and a laugh. That's Orochimaru for you: a hard worker and a pain in the ass.

A shuffle outside the room has him back at attention. For a moment time freezes for him, not a muscle so much as twitches. Even I tense slightly, ready for anyone or anything that might come to the door, my work forgotten in my lap. Voices drift in through the door, and as I recognize them, I relax.

"You're the newest member, and the youngest, both of which leader holds with very little regard. He's of course going to be toughest on you," Kisame's voice… hard to miss.

"I'm not really complaining, it's just wearing down my body, you know? Having a damn mission everyday wears at my nerves, to say the least. We have twice as many missions as the others," the clearly outraged voice comes from the newest and youngest member, as Kisame pointed out, Itachi.

The voices pass down the hallway and everything is quiet once more. I go back to work, but Orochimaru tenses even more, listening now for something that doesn't seem to be there, as if expecting someone else to be outside the door.

"Orochimaru," I call out, as if to someone that is lost in the woods, a guiding sort of voice.

He starts as if he hadn't known I was here, then he looks over at me and grins, recognizing his shinobi partner. Relaxing, he finally answers, "Yeah?"

I shake my head in disbelief, "Don't pretend like that didn't just startle you, what's your problem?"

He shakes his head in decline, "Nothing, really."

I roll my eyes, "You can't stay scared of Itachi forever-"

"That's not it," he interrupts. He never said he wasn't scared, just that that isn't what's bothering him.

"Then what?" no concern, just curiosity, the snake can fascinate my sometimes.

"I can't tell you," simple, something that finally sounds like Orochimaru.

I shake my head, "You've been in the Akatsuki how long now? You know better, nothing is sacred here. Of course you can tell me, though, I never talk to anyone else anyways."

He shakes his head violently, "No HE'll know I told you and then-"

"Who?" I cut him off, though I already have an idea.

"Leader," I win, "Sir Leader, he'll know I told you and then… gods! Not again, please, not again…" Now I think I know where he's coming from.

"So you're the one he's been…" my mind keeps talking but the words won't come out.

He just nods, his head dropping slightly. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, his head raises a little again, enough to see me at least, "You… he's…?"

I shake my head, "No, not to me, but it's been the latest news. He gave up Kisame because he found someone else, no one knew who, until now at least."

"You'll tell?" he seems mortified.

I shake my head, "No, I won't tell, I'm not that cruel.

Compassion and human contact, not my strong points, but I'm not completely heartless. I stand, setting my puppets to the side, and stride over to the quivering form that no longer resembles the strong snake like partner that I have come to recognize. I don't sit down, but remain standing, placing a hopefully helpful hand on his shoulder. He looks up, confused but still grateful, a silent thank you.

Grinning, he shrugs off my hand, "You know I'm not like that," he smirks, "I don't need comfort, I'm strong."

"I never said you weren't, but even the strongest can feel alone," I point out.

He nods, "That's more like the Sasori I know. I'm alright, really."

His voice and body language all agree, but I know better, his eyes are burning with confusion and fear.

I shrug, "What ever you say," and return to my work.

Hours or possibly only minutes later, I never keep track of time when I'm working, I look up to see that snakelike face staring at me, Orochimaru's inhuman eyes scanning me. When we make eye contact, he quickly looks away, and there seems to be a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks, a feeling of embarrassment in his posture.

I return to my work and the eyes are back on me from across the room. I don't need to look up to know that he's still staring, I can feel his eyes on me, almost a burning sensation.

I do look up though, but only when I hear the creak of mattress springs and then soft padding of feet crossing the short space between our beds. Unfortunately I don't look up fast enough, and before I can react I'm pinned partially to the wall behind me and partially to my bed. Orochimaru leans over me, hungrily, my work now pushed aside to the floor.

I start to attack, to fight back. I push him, hard in the chest, shoving up so that he loses his breath, hitting pressure points, doing anything and everything in a desperate attempt to get him off of me. He doesn't move though, he has me pinned completely.

"What are you…?" fear pushes through my head, but only curiosity escapes into my voice.

"I know this is wrong," he lowers his head, looking at everything except my eyes.

"Then don't do it," a simple enough solution.

He whispers against my lips, "I have to."

"Stop." A warning.

"I can't," he moves closer, his breath whispering across my ear and speaking his lust without a word to me. Almost inaudibly, his next words manage to reach me in desperation, "He told me to take you, he told me to take you and that things would be different if I did. I don't know… I always saw something in you, something that pulled at me, even with your puppet around you," he reaches up and I register that he is stroking the shirt that covers the wires on my stomach and then he reaches around to touch the blades on my back, "Even with this shell that you hide behind, I've always found you attractive. I think HE knew that, and when he told me that things would change, that I'd be free… it was all I could do not to run back here and get it over with. I've waited a full day, I've planned this all out, and now I have you right where I want you."

I stop fighting, and he actually starts to plea, "Please… my partner… my only friend… let me do this. I can make it fast, one quick blur and it's all over and then I'll go and tell him… please… I'll go and tell him and it'll never happen again. I know it… if I fail at this he's only going to make things harder on me, he's only going to treat me worse than he does now… I can't let that happen… please… help me…!"

To hear him plea, to hear the man that would rather work than laugh, that would rather write than talk, to hear the man that has never so much as asked me for a moment of time BEG for something is completely unnerving. I can't though. No matter how much he needs this… I can't let him do this to me… he's the one that I trusted, and now he's dashed that for me. I swore never to trust people, people are only here to make my ever lasting art, to make my dream come true, to always be remembered. He wants to take the only trust I have given in years and dash it in seconds.

He doesn't let me think much about that though, because as I lean my head forward to think, he starts nibbling and kissing the back of my neck. I writhe. I never consented to such treatment, and I don't intend to.

I start to push him again, harder this time, ramming my shoulder into his chest, knowing how much that must hurt and watching as he doesn't even react. His body shows lust, yet his eyes still hold that last hint of desperation, that pleading that says he wants me to give in. I shake my head in the slightest of declines, I will not play along with this, and I finally manage to shove him away completely.

Lacing his voice with lust, which by now has become all too real, he whispers, "I want you."

I shake my head again, this time more than noticeable, "Too bad."

He crawls back in front of me on the bed, a crazed look now dawning his face, "I'm going to have you whether you want me to or not."

"I'll fight," I sit up higher, my blades scraping the wall through my shirt.

He grins, baring his teeth threateningly, "Good."

Eyes still pleading, a mask of lust laying just behind, he lowers his head and I watch as that inhumanly long tongue slithers out. I feel it wet against my neck, wrapping around, not tight, just testing, tasting, only with fleeting moments of true contact. I hear a slight moan rumble out of his throat and when he comes back to look at me once more the mask of lust has come forward, taking all humanity from his gaze.

He leans forward again, this time going for my mouth. I try to turn my head away, I smash the back of my head against the stone behind me and then turn my mouth so that my cheek is pressed completely against the wall, trying to form seals to fight back. He doesn't allow either for long though, as one cold hand pins both of my hands at a painful angle, one that doesn't allow much movement. His other hand comes around and he digs his thumbnail into my chin, the other four pressing into my exposed cheek. I feel blood start to trace down my face, first beading by his nails and then snaking down to my neck where it then stops, soaking into my shirt.

I close my eyes, concentrate on not being here. I look around, keep my eyes off of him: closed, searching, closed. I feel his lips cover and crush my own and I try to pull back again. Unbidden, a whimper escapes my throat and with it his tongue forces its way into my mouth.

I bite down, hard, and he pulls back, crying out.

A short, maniacal laugh passes his lips and his voice seems strained between pain and lust, "I should have known better."

I don't respond, and that angers him more than any words could have, so he continues to push, "You were always the fighter, weren't you? You were always the stronger man, weren't you? Yet look at you, hiding behind something you're not, pinned to the ground by your own partner."

Again, I don't respond, though my mind is reeling with insults.

He growls and his hand instantly drops from my jaw to my groin. His long, thin fingers start to knead the skin and probe one of the few areas of true flesh left on me. His hand stops and gently squeezes me through my pants. I feel heat rush through me, and he grins, squeezing again, an unwanted moan passing my lips.

"Mmm" he scoots closer, straddling my legs, "For someone who says they don't want this, you sure seem to be enjoying yourself."

I twitch away, trying to keep a stoic face. If the rest of me won't cooperate, I'll keep my face stoic, he won't have that pleasure, not of seeing anything in my face. He squeezes again, though, this time a little harder, more forceful, and when I gasp I feel my cheeks turn crimson and he clasps his mouth over mine. My mind hazes and I have to concentrate to grasp one rational thought, one thing to anchor me as my body is taken over by a wave of uninvited pleasure. I grasp and hold to the thought of how this isn't right, this isn't fair.

His mouth moves against my neck, but I barely register what he says, "I don't know what makes this more wrong than it should be… which is pretty wrong in the first place…" his hands travel to my waist, un-tuck the shirt I'm wearing, and start to lift it. He continues speaking only when his head is positioned just the way he wants over my newly exposed skin, so that it's just at the right angle to let his breath tickle the flesh, "The fact that you look so young… or the fact that you aren't." He nips on a small area of my true flesh, not the puppet that is nearly my entire body, the little bit that keeps me real. The bite causes me to whimper, and as the small sound passes my lips, he grins, "It really doesn't matter though, none of that makes me want to stop. In fact…" he licks the teeth marks he left, "I like it more."

That I believe. He continues: probing, biting, nipping. He licks to test what is puppet and what is not sometimes, and every time he does I want to just throw him off and urge him on. My body cries out for attention that has been denied for so long, and yet every time he touches me I feel dirtier and dirtier. I know now no matter the amount of scrubbing and washing I will be tainted forever by this snake, my ex-partner, my ex-friend. I swear, I will never trust anyone the way I trusted him again… it always leads to so much pain, and I'm tired of it. I roll my eyes to the ceiling, trying to help my body grasp the concept my mind already knows, anything to get this to stop.

A sudden movement, his hands like claws in my back, pressing at the joint that connects my wing-like blades to my back. He pulls me up against his body, gently holding me now with one hand, and I realize that he's not tugging at the wings, he's resting them back in their holds. I never realized I had them out in the first place. He pushes everything from my bed now, expect my pillow, which he gently rests my head on, moving the rest of my body to lay under his. His actions are gentle, and if I didn't know better, I would even say they are kind, but I do know better, I do know what he plans to do with me now. Damn, I wish he would just get it over with, do this and let me rest in pieces, rest in pieces until I could finally bring my body back under my command, then I could have all the control I could ask for… I would control the balance between life and death, and thinking about it now, death seems the better choice. Yet he doesn't continue right away, and instead pushes some stray hair of mine from my forehead, leaning over to kiss the spot where it had rested.

Now he decides to show compassion? Is he joking? He can't be serious. I look into his eyes and while the lust remains, I do see what I recognize as my partner, and glaring into those familiar eyes, I only allow myself to feel hatred. He gently reaches up to caress my cheek, but I jerk away from him.

His face for a moment shows hurt, then for another complete understanding, and finally it returns to that pure lust. In seconds, he can go from human to monster, from care to control, and I realize how little I really know him as I watch him throw his shirt aside.

No niceties left in him, his lust replaces all as he tears at my pants, not even lowering them, just making sure he has enough room to do away with me. His own pants are quickly shed, and he automatically positions himself. Having never been touched like this in my life, even I know from the others that there needs to be some sort of help or else it hurts and can wound, but he doesn't seem to notice or care as he plunges into me.

A sharp pain shoots through me, and I cry out, tears falling from my eyes, and yet he is relentless in his pounding, his raping, and he doesn't even stop to notice. After only moments for him it is over, and soon after even my own body manages a futile attempt at release, only releasing enough to satisfy the throbbing pain in my groin, and brining my thoughts back to the burning pain in my ass.

He stands, and what a sight he must see as he glances down at me. I know as I curl on my side, trying to hide my own vulnerability, that things cover me that shouldn't, blood and other things. I can't seem to get my body to curl, so I just lie there, in the pitiful shape he has left me, as he just stares at me some more.

OROCHIMARU POV

I stare down at the sight unblinkingly. Blood soaks into the sheets beneath Sasori, and still it does not faze me. What real flesh Sasori has is covered in claw marks, though I don't remember ever making some of them, but I did, and looking at him now I feel a sense of triumph: Sir Leader will never touch me again.

Pulling on my pants, my mind glazes over with a peace, not allowing any of the sounds register around me if there are any sounds at all. No longer will leader be able to ravage my body. He promised me that things would be different, less painful. I'll be free.

I throw my shirt on. He told me that when I finished I should pack and prepare. A different partner was also hinted at. That's what I need now, a change of pace. Glancing over at my current partner, I sigh inwardly. He still looks tempting, even with the blood and the hurt look on his face, he still is sexy and tempting as ever. Even I don't know how long I've been waiting to do that.

Grinning, I step into the hallway, leaving the whimpering mass that had been my partner behind. When he doesn't show up tomorrow at the meals, people will start to worry and then they'll find him. Kisame of all people would notice, he knows where everyone is at all times. I think without Kisame we'd all be off timing.

Wait. Didn't he leave on a mission earlier? Yeah, him and Itachi were talking about that earlier. Well, no matter, now that I'm packed and out of there someone should be taking my place soon enough. Maybe even that other new guy, the blonde one. He's only been here a little longer than Itachi… what was his name? Ah well, who cares? He has to be the one taking my place, because he's been with Zetsu, but Zetsu's a spy, a loner, so he'd never take a partner for long. The blonde will find Sasori, for sure. And if not? It's not my problem anymore.

I knock eagerly on Leader's door and enter when called to do so. He's sitting at his desk, his room behind the ever-threatening door to my left. I know what lies behind that door, and pray never to return to that again.

He motions me into the char across the desk, and I eagerly sit down.

"You go him to agree?" Leader's voice pierces the expectant silence.

I shake my head, "No, but I did it any ways."

He grins, "Well, the my end of the deal needs to be held up too."

"Right, I get a new partner?" I question.

He nods, then shrugs, "Well, in a sense… you'll be doing solo missions."

A promotion too?

"I will expect you back tonight, you know the drill," he smirks.

"Wait, I thought you said things were going to change… be less painful…" I sit at attention.

"Of course. I never said that we would stop if that's what you mean. I fully intend for us to keep meeting, but I wanted you to be top to me. I need a change and that's why I had you take someone else first, it's no fun when the person on top has no idea what they're doing. You should consider this quite the honor, no one else has ever been my dominant," Leader stands and so do I, but as he advance, I back away.

He pins me to the wall much like I had done to Sasori before, and reality floods over me. I actually raped Sasori. I took the only trust anyone had ever given me and forced it away. He hadn't trusted anyone except me since becoming a missing-nin… what have I done?

"Yes," he hisses, "that's it. Now that you see what you've done, isn't it a thrill?"

In truth? Yes… and no. The thrill of the power and the dominance, it's wonderful… but Sasori…

"Now imagine doing that to a willing," the seductive tone in his voice catches me, twisting me inside.

"No," I push him away, "I can't. Sasori…"

"There's someone that will be there in the morning," he assures me, grasping at me.

I gasp, reacting and he smirks, "You see, it's not THAT bad."

The grin, the laugh, it's all too familiar, all the same. I push him away and dash for the door, letting it smack against a wall and running, far and hard, far away from here. Blindly dashing down a hallway, I somehow make it outside.

I can never go back there, I had comfort stolen from me long ago and now even trust towards me is gone. There's too much pain here, too much regret. I'll never look back. Never.

DEIDARA POV

I walk up to the door of the new room I was assigned, to the room with my new partner whom I've never met. Sasori. I heard he's not really much of the talking type and barely anyone sees him. Hmm. Not my type of person, but as I've learned what Leader wants, Leader gets.

I knock, figuring it's polite. No answer. I knock louder, and still no answer. Well, I heard he always tries to avoid crowds, and since breakfast just started he might be there before the rush. Yeah, he must just be getting breakfast. I'll go in and wait until he gets back.

Opening the door, I quickly stop. There is someone here, with no sheet on them, and covered in blood. I shut the door and hurry over. Stumbling over a few puppets, I reach the bedside instantly and lay a hand on the bloodied wrist. There's a pulse, but it's weak.

"Sasori, un?" I whisper, shaking his shoulder.

A murmur, but no response that I can understand, except that he starts to shiver.

"Duh, un, you must be freezing," I quickly grab a blanket off the floor, pushing all the others along with the puppets more towards the middle of the room, "What happened, un?"

A moan this time, and a single eye opens. Instantly he jumps up and draws back, but he must have hurt himself as he pales slightly. It's the first good look I've gotten at him, even with the sheet. There's a wire in his stomach, and some weird symbol over his heart, and while part of him looks real, the rest looks like… well… a puppet.

I put a hand on his shoulder as he doubles over and before he can move again, I gently nudge him to the edge of the bed, out of the blood, and explain: "I'm Deidara, un, your new partner. I knocked on the door, but when no one answered I came in, please don't be mad!"

I approach him again, cautiously this time, knowing his is more aware, and I reach out a tentative hand. Suddenly there are these great blade-wings on his back. I jump back and hold up my hands, showing that I mean him no harm. He doesn't seem to care, as he sits back up, trying to gather the covers around him.

"You're just like HIM!" he claims.

"What… who, un?" I tilt my head, keeping my distance.

"The one who did this to me, THAT'S what you really want," he shouts.

I shake my head, "No, Sasori-danna… I just thought… I just thought you might want me to be there. I'll keep my distance, I'll stay away."

He seems to calm down, but the blades stay at attention, so I do too, "Why do you want to help me?"

I shrug, "I dunno, un. I guess because I know what it's like, being abandoned by everyone else, I know what it's like for no one to care when you're hurt and just want someone to be there… I had no right to guess that you wanted someone here, but I just thought…"

He nods, and the blades retract. I stay where I am, shaking slightly from that sudden out burst of violence, but when I see that his eyes have returned to confusion and pain, I know that I can approach him, and I do so, wrapping the blankets around him again.

"Deidara-un is it?" his voice is raspy.

"No, just Deidara, plain and simple, un," I comment back.

He nods before his body convulses, retching slightly. When I can tell he is done, I lightly dab his mouth with a piece of my shirt that I tore off. He stares at my hand for a moment, first untrustingly, then questioningly. I don't understand, until one of the mouths on my hands sticks it's tongue out and he jumps.

I quickly pull my hand back, "I'm sorry, un… I know it's strange, and scary, I don't ask that you even try to pretend not to be disgusted… everyone is…"

He shakes his head, "I'm not disgusted," some of the strength in his voice clears, "just a little startled."

"You don't think it's gross, un?" I look up hopefully.

He shakes his head, "I've seen worse, trust me."

I nod, and as he notices his nakedness, I toss him another blanket from the floor. Avoiding the mess on the floor, I move to the other side of the bed and sit on the edge. Pulling on some fingerless gloves to cover my hand mouths, I then sit on a clean portion of the bed and pull the shaking form that I figure is Sasori towards me, careful of all the injured looking areas, supporting him where it seems like there is only puppet.

He stiffens, and I gently pet his hair, "You can trust me, I'm not gonna hurt you, un, I promise."

"You're promising something that big to someone you don't even know," he laughs gruffly, "You don't even know my name."

"You're Sasori, right?" I tilt my head.

"You still don't know a thing about me," he mumbles.

"You're strong, un, I can tell that, Sasori-danna-"

"What did you call me?" he interrupts.

"Sasori-danna. I said you were strong, and I can tell you're stronger than me, just by looking at you. I respect you, un, I can tell it's worth doing so," I smile kindly, "Except now you've been hurt by someone you trusted, and you don't want to trust me, un."

He growls, an ugly sound, as tears fall down his cheeks, "Shut up."

I wipe a few of those tears away, "You can be my danna… if you want, un… I trust you."

He turns and pulls away from me, "Shut up. Shut! Up!"

"I'm sorry," I drop my hands, letting him crawl away from me.

"How dare you come here and act like you know everything about me! Did you also guess the part where I wish I were dead? Did you forget the part that I really just hate myself now in general? Did you forget the part where I was raped by the only one I trust and then abandoned? Did you forget that I feel like I'll never be clean again!" he's in hysterics, and I know I shouldn't push him, so I let him yell at me.

He stares at me, then moves to hit me, making a futile attempt and finally collapses against me, crying, hands twisting in the fabric of my shirt desperately. I wrap one arm carefully around his body, and the other hand tangles in his hair. I hear a sob like sound, a puff of air, and I start to run my fingers through the surprisingly soft, yet extremely messy, hair of my danna. For a while we just sit here like this, me holding him and him crying into my shirt. Eventually his tears slow, and stop, and he turns his head so his cheek is resting against my chest, his face moving with the rise and fall of my breathing. Sitting here, I realize that if ever I were to be hurt, I could turn to my danna, my Sasori-danna.

He nuzzles deeper into my embrace, though instantly I can tell this is a new sensation for him, something he doesn't normally do, just by the tentativeness in his motions. I start to shift him around so I can pick him up to carry him over to what is now my bed, but as soon as I start to pull away he looks up at me, anger and betrayal and confusion all swimming in his eyes.

I smile gently at the childish look, "I just want to get you into a clean bed, un, it's alright. I'm not leaving you alone, not for a long while, as long as you need me here…" I whisper.

"You're crazy," he comments, his voice almost to what seems like his normal tone.

"I know, un," I grin.

He laughs a little and the sound is a great relief. He isn't completely damaged, not yet, there's still something great to save inside of him, there's still a part of him fighting.

He lets me pick him up and carry him across the room, he even lets me help him under the covers so he's lying on his side. He curls up a little, and I help get him as comfortable as possible, tucking the blankets around his body. I even pull the blankets that he had around him before on top so there are four piled on him, and added to that, I wrap an arm around from in front to his back, where now I feel where the blades from before are hidden.

His voice reaches me, as close to normal as I've heard it this entire time, "Thank you."

"Of course, un! I promised that I wouldn't hurt you, which kinda means that I promised to protect you at the same time, un. Promises are real important to me," which is true.

"Yeah," he weakly smiles, "I'd believe that. They used to mean a lot for me too," a brief pause, "If you ever need help, I'll protect you, if nothing else than in return for this. I'll always be here for you, I promise."

He passes out and I let him sleep. I know very well that when he wakes up everything will be different, but I don't think he'll hurt me. He's my Sasori-danna still, just I said, and just as I promised I'll be here for him. Friendships and partnerships don't always last, but promises last forever.

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a/n: please review! 


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